3 Days
by Shaytis
Summary: A little disease reunite Jack and Daniel for three days of cohabitation.


3 **Days**

_Author:_   
_Status:_   
_Category:_   
_Rating:_   
_Summary:_   
_Disclaimer:_   
  
  
  


_Archive:_

_Note:_   


Shaytis (katied@loginnovation.com)   
Complete   
Friendship   
PG   
A little disease reunite Jack and Daniel for three days of cohabitation.   
Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Doble Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.   
Heliopolis, Shaytis's House (http://www.logi.qc.ca/katied/).   
Elsewhere, please ask.   
Thanks to Belle for the support that she gave me by reviewing and correcting my English.
____________________________________________________________________________ 

At this hour, the SGC halls were almost completely deserted. Most of the staff had gone home, and it was exactly Colonel Jack O'Neill's intention. The General had given his team a whole 3 days off and he was going to enjoy each minute of it. However, old habits are hard and that's why he was still there, letting his feet mechanically lead him through the 28th level to his destination. After a corner, he turned into a dark hall where all the lights were off, except one--Daniel's lab. 

Since the day Doctor Daniel Jackson had made his appearance, his world had been turned upside-down. He wasn't complaining--on the contrary, the Stargate project was a life experience and watching over his young team-mate kept him busy between missions. And tonight wasn't an exception. "Atchoo!" Even before opening the door separating them, he known that he had said goodbye to his 3 days of peacefulness. "Atchoo!" "Whoa! Danny, another one like that and this whole mountain will collapse on your rocks." 

The young archaeologist's head raised, turning bleary eyes on him. For O'Neill, he seemed drowsy, even more fragile then usual. "...'ack! wh...choum!..." He couldn't finish before another sneeze caught him, making him blow his nose in his handkerchief. "…Ar'fac"   
"Bless you."   
"No! They're not rock, but ar'fac."   
"Yeah yeah. Come on, time to go home."   
"I jus' have..."   
_No way. You will not got me this time_, thought O'Neill. No matter how stubborn his friend was, he was just as stubborn and didn't have the time to argue. And before Daniel could realize what happened, they were out of the lab, and in the elevator. 

As they climbed to the surface, Daniel watched the floor numbers decrease on their way, felling more ill with each change of level. It was as if every vibration of the winch's mechanism that took them to the surface flowed through him and amplified themselves through his head. When the doors finally opened, O'Neill looked back and found him leaning heavily on the wall with his eyes closed. Putting a hand on Daniel's shoulder, he begin to guide him through the checkpoints and toward the outdoor. 

The cold wind of the night refreshed his burning skin and appeased his throbbing head with caressing puff. Nevertheless, it was too cold and he shivered. The sensation brought him back to reality and he took notice of his surrounding. O'Neill's firm grip was on his sleeve, dragging him to the parking lot, passing his car. He give a questioning look to his C.O. "You sleeping at home." It was a statement, not an offer and Daniel frowned at this idea. He wasn't up to be mother-henned by a air force colonel, but let his friend settle him in his jeep without voicing any objection. In reality, he was to tired to care. 

The drive was smooth on the plain road, the fresh air blowing in the slightly open window revived him. But soon, lulled by the regular purr of the motor, he fell asleep for the rest of the way. It was only when O'Neill parked in his entry and stopped the motor that he stirred and opened his eyes. "Look who's here! Welcome back." "My p'easure." O'Neill sighed at this retort. Maybe did he had to be more careful about his influence on Daniel. The kid was beginning to be sarcastic. 

As soon as they were in the house, O'Neill started the kettle and quickly settled Daniel on the couch, hot mug of coffee in hand. Having insured himself of his friend's comfort, he began to prepare the spare room for the night. When he had made the bed, he looked in one of the drawers and found a old pair of pajamas that his son had offered him long time ago. It was too large for him, but he had kept it, knowing that Charlie was so proud of his choice. He had stowed it here after his death, but now he felt better about his loss. _Well,_ he thought,_ time to take it out of the mothballs. Of course, it also too large for Daniel, but it will be okay for the night._

**~*~ Day 1 ~*~**

**_Morning…_**

The morning was beautiful, a bright early sun diffused it's rays in the bedroom, tickling and warming the sleeper comfortably resting on the large bed. On the other side of the door, careful footsteps can be heard and the door opened. "Coffee is ready. Wake up!" Daniel sluggishly extracted himself of dreamland. How he wanted to stay engulfed under the soft cover for a little bit longer. But if he wasn't in the kitchen soon, he knew that Jack would come back and throw him out of the bed. No kidding--he had done it before. 

_ Yes, it's definitely a beautiful morning,_ O'Neill thought. _Perfect for hiking. Maybe Daniel would want to come. _He was sure he had kept an old pair of boots that would probably fit him. At this moment, the sound of bare feet on the wood floor attracted his attention and he turned to face his guest. He wanted to make his invitation, but the picture in front of him stopped him. "God, Danny! You look awful!" "I feel like it. But...t's so sweet of...'ou to poin' out...'ack" 

O'Neill couldn't suppress a smile at the look his friend's face. Beside his hoarse voice, he had his hair ruffled in all directions and his eyes were red-rimmed. In the large pair of pajamas floating around him, he seemed childish and very, very ill. There were two things to which O'Neill couldn't resist, children and Daniel. That was a deadly combination. It was just to bad for the hiking. 

Without a word, O'Neill turned him and sent him back to bed and for once, Daniel didn't even think to argue. Too glad to lay back down on the soft mattress, he had already began to doze when Jack returned few minutes later, with a breakfast tray and putt it down on him. A revolting taste assaulted his stomach. _Oh no!_, he think, _not that_. Forgetting the tray on his lap, he run as fast as he can to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. 

O'Neill was angry and ready to release some very colorful words, but when he realized what had happened, his anger turned to worry and he followed Daniel. Arriving at the bathroom door, he wasn't sure what to do. Maybe Daniel preferred to stay alone. However, it was just too troubling for him not to do something about it. He knocked. "Daniel, are you doing okay?" Nothing, not even a sound. "I'm coming in, okay?" Always nothing. He pushed to door open and find Daniel curled between the tub and the toilet. "I'm sorry." O'Neill was confused. Did Daniel can really be sorry for being sick. "I messed up the pajamas." O'Neill couldn't believe it, *he* was unbelievable. He really looked so small like that, his hand wrapped in the pajama sleeve, knees pressed against his chest. How often this man had reminded him of his own son. Their big eyes, their stubbornness and gentle curiosity were so alike. 

O'Neill took a washcloth and put it under the cold water, squeezed out the surplus and applied it on Daniel's nape. "It's barely nothing. Don't beat yourself up. I'll do it when you feel better." For anybody else, he would mean it, but it wasn't anybody else. Rather, he put the cloth back under the running water and wiped the sweat from the pallid face. He helped him to stand up, slowly, and gave support as they walked back in the room. 

Beside the bed, O'Neill pointed at the damage. "Did this mean you're not hungry?" and swiftly began to clean the food off of the bed. Daniel didn't say a word. He wanted some water, his throat was hurting and dry after his encounter in the bathroom, but he wasn't sure if it would work. "Wait a minute." O'Neill disappeared for few seconds, reappearing with a full glass of water. How he had known, he didn't have a clue, but he was glad of Jack's sixth sense. The water poured in his throat and the cover was pulling on his shoulder, carefully tucked under his chin. His hair was smoothed by a affectionate, father-like gesture and before he could acknowledge it, he eyes closed. 

The rest of the day was passing slowly for O'Neill, the house was so quiet. Daniel didn't wake up all afternoon. Often, he had coughed, but each time he had gone to see if Daniel was okay, he had found him thoroughly asleep. Even when he had checked for fever, Daniel had hardly stirred. When he had called Dr. Frasier, she said it was a little epidemic on the base, but nothing alien this time. Just a old earth disease. Time will do the job. Even with Daniel's medical past, the best thing to do was to get a lot of rest, be sure to stay hydrated and keep the fever low. _No problem,_ he was able to do that. 

**_Evening..._**

The bright sun of the day had begun to fade behind the horizon. Only a remnant dim lightened the room when his lids fluttered open. His body was anchored in the mattress, given the impression to weigh 300 pounds. But it was when his lungs took their next breath that he understood what had waked him. The congestion made him start breathing through his mouth and a river of ice traveled their way up, flaming his throat. 

Between the visits to check on his patient, O'Neill had tried occupy his time between housekeeping and the TV. But he had succumbed to the lazy day and was taking a nap on the couch when the sound of something exploding reached his ear. A horrible vision snapped him awake in a flash. He crossed the space separating him of the room like a dream and swung the door fully open. There where only some glass, few shining splinters drowned in a pool of water sprinkling the floor. No blood, not a drop. It wasn't the ring of death. 

He began to rationalize. The story didn't repeat itself. It had been a long time since he kept any weapons at home. And Daniel wasn't Charlie. Slowly his heartbeat came back to a more regular rhythm, but what had happened? 

On the bed, clear azure eyes intensely fixed him in a plea. He approached his side, not giving any attention to the glass crackling under his shoes, put a hand on his forehead and was reassured. The fever hadn't grown. His breath had became more rough, forced, but he knew what to do for that. 

_ Where is it? Damn it!_ Where did he had put it? He knew for sure he had kept it. O'Neill rummaged all the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen. Moving, pushing, pulling cans and bottles on his way. _Of course, silly! It's in the bathroom._

It was unbearable. What Jack was doing? He was hearing him in the kitchen. Go and come, back and forth, again and again. Finally, the door's room opened. Do something! 

O'Neill pushed the chips still on the floor with his foot and sat down beside him, deposing a pan and a towel on the night table. "Open your top." He was confused. "It will help you to breath," Yep, he was confused, and lost. "Do I have to do it myself?...Kids!" He reached the pajamas and quickly unbuttoned it, taking the tail out of Daniel's chest. Hot liquid was spread with firm kneading on his torso. He was full of the stuff--on his stomach, pectorals and throat. The smell was strong and made him cough several times. However, the effect was as strong, warming, not burning and, at least, he was breathing now. O'Neill made him sit and lift the back of his top spreading the substance on every muscle before letting him lay down and drying his hand on the towel. "Jack, what's this?" Wow, his voice was working. "Old recipe. Granny swore on the stuff." Daniel looked in the pan. It was of a brown translucent shade with multiple black dots. He give a look to is C.O. "Ahh! a bit of confidence." Why not, after all, it didn't hurt and he always been confident in Jack. 

**~*~ Day 2 ~*~**

_ Me!, I had wanted to go hiking, climb a little mountain far away with tranquility, but nooo! I have my own 'waking trouble' archaeologist to screw up my plans. Why didn't I put my hand around his neck and strangle the life out of him and mummify him._ O'Neill sighed. It wasn't Daniel's fault. It was his because he had volunteered to stay and play baby-sitter. The kid hadn't even realized it when he had tucked him for the night. Deep within himself, he knew far to much how he enjoyed looking over Daniel...and complaining about it. Hey! After all, he had a reputation to preserve and his young team-mate had already compromised it to much. _Oh! And the hell with the today's hockey game too_. But he will have to pay my this...for the principle. O'Neill turned in his bed. He needed get some sleep if he wanted to be fully operational for the days to come. 

He rubbed his eyes, palm flat, trying to take the sleep out of them, with little success. He rolled over, stretched his arms and tried to conceal his yawn at the same time--nothing worked. With the tip of his fingers, he tapped on the nightstand until he made contact with the rim of his glasses and put them on. _Ok, now open your eyes. They don't obey. Just try. Yes, that made one, and...two. That's good, Daniel. Jack will be proud, you did it._ Daniel pushed off the bed and dragged himself out of bed. He felt the cold floor under his feet, the broken glass was gone and a new one replaced it on the table. He gave a hard push against the bed and was standing. _Stop! Stop it! When will this room will stop spinning around! If the other...well, they will have to prove I'm nuts._ But hey, he was alone. If he had half a mind, he should lay back down. _Naaa!_

_Grrr! For crying out loud! What did he do? _He wanted to sleep. He had passed half the night tossing and turning or staring at the ceiling. Sure, Daniel tried to make as little noise as possible but he was getting old and had all the right to be grumpy in the morning. That was it, today was the day of his revenge. O'Neill get out of bed, think of the pleasure you will have making Doctor Jackson's ears ring so loud that the neighbors were going to hear it. "Daniel!" 

The water was boiling. He felt ugly, bad and sick. He really needed a coffee. He opened the cupboard to the search of his favorite cup. "Daniel!" O'Neill saw him waver and lose his balance. He caught him right in time to prevent his fall. Shy man faced him with shame. _I'm a slack, a slack mother-hen._ No, he was able to yell at him after that. Anyway, he would have felt guilty for the millennium to come. "I can't believe you didn't break this stupid cup." The shame led to an impish smile. "I love this cup." He knew, it's why he kept it. 

What was left of breakfast was on the coffee table. On the couch, Daniel sniffled slightly and O'Neill chuckled, adjusting the cover on him. _Five years old, max. I will not give him more._ He took a crumb from the plate and threw it in his mouth. Daniel had recovered most of his appetite, but he wasn't very hungry and had just eaten a few bites. Suddenly, the phone rang. He got up and made his way to the phone. It was Janet asking for news. The good doctor had learned from experience that it was better to kept an eyes on the young man, but this time she seemed to be more than satisfied about the progress made. 

**_Mid-day…_**

"What part of 'no!' didn't you understand!" O'Neill was holding his finger at Daniel's nose hoping to shut up him in his scholar-mode. The worst of it was that he had pressed the switch himself. _Why did I have to get him started? _"Jack!" "No!" Daniel was about to open his mouth to voice his protest. "No! Nein! Non! And it will be the same answer in any of all the language you know." O'Neill was rewarded with silence. He had won, but he didn't believe it. He was on the apex of happiness. But why did he feel so guilty. _Probably the puppy eyes and the expression of sorrow on Danny's face._ "Ja'aack, it's just one tiny old manuscript." For an instant, he had truly believe had won one, but the war, he was fooling himself. O'Neill got up and grabbed his jacket. "And don't Ja'aak me!" and then, he was gone. Daniel was stunned, but soon a wide grin crossed his face._ I won._

**_Evening…_**

The sky was dark. O'Neill's place was in a suburb, not in town like Daniel's, but there still weren't many stars in the sky. "Danny? You want something? Meat, drink...artifact?" Daniel raised his eyebrows. It wasn't very often that Jack said it correctly, but no, he didn't want anything. "Try some water. Do you know what Janet would do to me if you got dehydrated?" Daniel seriously considered the options, and finally nod his defeat. He didn't have a idea. "Me neither, and I want to keep it that way." Fresh water was handed to him and he sipped before finishing it. He had been fine all day, but now, with the night, the discomfort was back. They weren't as strong, just...disturbing. The manuscript Jack had brought back had stayed untouched for more than a hour. He had succeeded in decrypting the majority of it. However, he wasn't able to understand the last part. Not only had his eyes closed by themselves, his mind was clouded. Maybe he did need a nap, just for few minutes. 

_ It's past ten o'clock, time to go bed_. The guys had agreed to watch the game tomorrow and he was sure that Daniel would be well enough to survive a few hours alone. _Just put the kid in bed and do the same._ He had been sleeping on the couch for the last 2 hours straight and O'Neill had already put the pan in the oven. "Rise and shine!" The only sound coming from the limp form on his couch was a low moan. "...or just crawl and groan." O'Neill slid an hand behind his head, helping him to stand. "I will take the second." 

Daniel looked at O'Neill in shock horror and mouthed a no.   
"Yes"   
"No"   
"Remember last night, it will help."   
"I don't want to."   
"I want."   
"Don't."   
"Do..." O'Neill cut the conversation short by applying the warm mixture on his chest. Daniel's reaction was one of disgust. "I was sure you wanted." Ok, ok, Jack had won the match and joy was written all over his face like an illuminated panel. He was taking such a pleasure to spread it on him, not missing a spot. "You know me too well and I admit I'm better," _but it's just a match._

Soon after, the quilt was pulled under his chin and O'Neill was out of the room. He had this one, this one was his victory and with that in mind, he fell asleep. 

**~*~ Day 3 ~*~**

"Grrr!" For crying out loud! What did he do? He wanted to sleep today, too. Daniel never was this early on our missions. He looked at his clock._ 9!_ It was already 9 o'clock! He jumped up. The game was at 10! "Whoa." The room reeled around him and he had to grab the head-board to refund his equilibrium. _To fast, O'Neill._

Quickly, he had washed, changed his clothes and ran down the stairs. "Rise and shine...if you can." It didn't take long time for Daniel to see that his C.O. was not in the best shape. However, he was felling cheerful. Thanks to Jack's awful mixture. "Aren't you supposed the crawl and groan somewhere. Somewhere else?" A coughing attack assaulted him, filling his eyes with tears. "I pass. Breakfast?" and his plate was put on the table. He had set it. There were utensils and he had even found a tablecloth. He looked around him. Definitively, Daniel was someone good to have in the house. "Marry me?!" Daniel burst in laughter. "Where's my diamond ring?" O'Neill's chuckle were more like deep cough. 

It had taken him only five minutes. They had argued about the game. You stay, I go, You stay, I go, etc. But in the end, O'Neill had gave up. It was clear that he wasn't in any shape to play hockey. God knows, he wasn't even in shape to play tic-tac-to. Daniel had settled him back in bed and had called Dr. Frasier. It was the same diagnosis. So now he was talking with the hockey team, canceling his appearance. It had taken him only five minutes. Daniel's enjoying this to much. 

Daniel stepped into the room with a big smile on his face. He looked like a cat who was ready to eat the canary. And Jack had the bad impression he was the canary. That's when he saw what Daniel had in his hand--a towel and pan, and in the pan..."No!" It made just him smile more. "No!" "Oh, Yesss!" "How did you know..." "...Granny's recipe?" He was holding it in front of O'Neill's nose. "Does it really contains all this stuff? Yuck! Look at this one, and just the name of this one is purely disgusting." "Where did you find..." "...this. When I was cleaning. It was left on the counter. Tsk tsk tsk!" 

A twinkle of malice flashed in Daniel's eyes as he reached for the pan. "No!" Oh! my god, he is going to enjoy this. Daniel gave a pout, trying to look sorry, but the twinkle never left his eyes. "NO!" It was to late. A thick layer of Granny's mixture was poured on his chest and soon covered it. "One of this days," was hissed between clenched teeth. "Does this mean you won't marry me?" "Grr!" and O'Neill turned on his side, back to his friend, trying to bury himself as Daniel made his way out. 

Under the quilt, he could hear him. "I left you a glass of water on the nightstand" "Grr!" "Good night, Jack." Well, in spite of all, the kid was caring for him. "Yeah! Thanks." The door closed and on the other side, Daniel walked away. He was doing is best to keep quiet while trying to get rid of the awful mixture from his hands, but the smile wouldn't go away. Giving one last glance at O'Neill's door, he whispered, "Game and Match!"   
  


**_The End_**

_ Yes... PLEASE send me feedback!!!_


End file.
